


N/A

by YouMinLi



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, As in the author is depressed while writing so it reads like a huge depression mood, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Basically PWP, Besides this fic that is, Dark, Depression, Drunk Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, How Do I Tag, M/M, Nighttime, Party, Smoking, Smut, The Author Regrets Everything, i get depression trying to edit but like I knew it was gonna happen, see above tag, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-12
Updated: 2019-08-12
Packaged: 2020-08-20 00:29:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20218804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YouMinLi/pseuds/YouMinLi
Summary: What’s the meaning of life? Is it to exist? Is it to die? Is it to ponder the question and in turn, prove intelligence? Jongdae doesn’t know the answer to that, but he does know that he doesn’t want to think about it anymore. Well. Time to get drunk.





	N/A

**Author's Note:**

> **This reads like a depression mood. As in it is depressing. As in you may feel down. You have been warned.**
> 
> This started with me wanting to write a Chenhan blowjob, and somehow it got depressing, probably because I was. 
> 
> I had this one party kpop mix on repeat while I was writing but it was taken down by YouTube for some bullshit reason probably so I won’t be able to link it. Either way, big shoutout to [shownu’s left tiddie](https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCO9HcCWYOV6w7KWBq8HGugQ) for making it and their service to the YouTube and kpop community.

There’s something alluring about pushing yourself to the brink, to chip and break until there’s nothing left to lose, and then you can finally see how you either snap or fight back. Jongdae thinks that might be a little of why he’s in this room right now, shoved up shoulder to shoulder with 600 different people he’s only seen about once, twice, maybe three times around campus but never bothered to learn the name of.

The music is pumping, a low bass boosted thing that sounds like it was yanked through a dishwasher and a flat iron before it was forced into sound and pulled into the song. Everything is shaking, probably because of the vibrations of the endlessly repeating song, declaring something that Jongdae neither knows nor wants to find out. There’s a second to take a breath as the song ends, and then something else starts again, sounding identical besides the fact that it’s clearly not, and maybe Jongdae’s hallucinating. 

It’s not dancing, not that Jongdae is someone who knows anything about dancing, but the way the whole crowd is moving in such unison is horridly familiar, a squirming mass that looks like the numbers still dancing through Jongdae’s mind from his last assignment, and then Jongdae’s pulled into it. There’s an arm grabbing his, knocking up against his elbow, kisses on his cheeks and then hands are pulling him into a hug, or rather to dance. He was only trying to get to the kitchen, but someone decided that the only narrow passageway into the kitchen was to become the dance floor, and like a mindless crowd, everyone obliged.

The girl he’s dancing with isn’t bad, she actually knows how to dance, or at least that’s what Jongdae thinks that he remembers about her. She sits in the front in his morning classes, and has her eyes closed as she moves with a smile on her face, acting as if there’s nothing else in the world. Then Jiyoung spins away before Jongdae could even greet her, and he’s back to fighting alone in the mass.

Why did he come to this party? There’s alcohol and friends in his dorm, he doesn’t need to be here to watch the world twist and turn and fall away. 

Jongdae takes three more steps and ends up skidding straight into another less functional body, rubber slipping against wet ceramic. The air is brighter here, lit by the streetlights that stream through the windows with a vengeance, as if to better shine upon the wrongdoers for the police to find. There’s nothing that makes Jongdae cough awkwardly anymore in the clear air, and though all the lights are off, he sees a bottle and clean cup well enough, and pours half out. 

It all burns going down, but then again, everything burns and has been burning. A hand tips the neck of a new bottle into his cup barely after the liquid finishes swirling around in Jongdae’s empty stomach like a cat’s tongue, and Jongdae doesn’t find it within himself to disagree, especially when he looks up and sees the person pouring. 

“Well, well, well, who’s regretting their decisions now?” Jongdae’s laugh is ugly, scarring and raw in a way that would almost scare himself, but Byun Baekhyun just bares his teeth at him in a mockery of a growl. No fucking offense, but Baekhyun looks like legitimate shit. His hair is partly wet, sticking to his scalp in a mysterious way, and the eyeliner that Jongdae watched him draw on painstakingly hours ago is smudged, giving him a hurt raccoon look, and that’s being generous. 

“Shut up and drink.” Baekhyun tips the rest of the bottle into his own mouth, and though it isn’t much, Jongdae hopes he shouldn’t be concerned. On good nights, Baekhyun tends to stay in, having exhausted his energy long ago during the day. Why the fuck he decided to come to this party is beyond him, and to tell the truth, dropping his books and walking into the party hours late was partly influenced by the thought of Baekhyun getting wrecked without help. But Baekhyun looks fine, if not a little worse for wear, and Jongdae thinks that Baekhyun’ll be fine.

So he tosses his head back and chugs the full cup in the way Chanyeol had taught him while he was still Baekhyun’s boyfriend, and decides to forget about the past. All the people sitting and standing and lying around in this kitchen can’t change their circumstances, and regrets are only for those who fear. 

“Got plastered enough that you won’t remember how you got so shit-faced? Ready to go home?” Jongdae asks, dropping the cup onto the countertop with what’s more of a slam than a drop, feeling the world starting to twist. This shit is strong, and it probably doesn’t help that his tolerance is down after having imposed a self-restriction after attempting to get healthier. New Year resolutions never come true anyways.

“Oh hey Jongdae.” Chanyeol’s arm drops down around Baekhyun’s neck, and Baekhyun looks up at him like he holds the sun and the moon in one. Chanyeol hasn’t changed, still as tall and lanky as always, except for the shock of red hair that Baekhyun is reaching a hand to card through right now. There’s no way either of them are anywhere near sober right now, because they would’ve never done anything remotely relating to each other, and this is the shock that suddenly drives all the numbing tension out of Jongdae.

“Chanyeol? Baekhyun, we need to go, you’re going to regret this in the morning.” Jongdae takes a step forwards, reaching out for his best friend, only to find him being tugged back by Chanyeol, going willingly, booted feet stumbling along with Chanyeol’s.

“_ NooOOooooOOOOO _ -” Baekhyun whines, a hand entwined with Chanyeol’s, the other one clutching the back of Chanyeol’s neck, as if to pull him closer in a dance move that Jongdae knows fully well neither can properly do. For what he’s doing, Chanyeol also has an arm restraining Baekhyun from leaving, resting at the curve of Baekhyun’s hipbones a bit too comfortably. 

“Jongdae, please.” Chanyeol’s wearing the letterman’s jacket Baekhyun loved to steal so much, and the pair of pants he had dragged Jongdae out shopping to buy. He smells like the tv depiction of the underworld, drugs and sex and drinks, but that might be Baekhyun. But he’s still the Chanyeol that cries whenever something too sad comes on during a movie and the Chanyeol that wrote Baekhyun love songs and then broke whatever fuckass promises he made within those lyrics.

They could use some couple counseling, and if Baekhyun ends up heartbroken again, Jongdae can actually go beat Chanyeol up without feeling remorse this time. And if it does happen, it’s another nightmare for another night.

“Fine. Go back to your place or ours and talk it out. I’ll stay out of the way, but if you hurt him again, you will not leave this school with all your bones intact.” Chanyeol nods, and without a word of defense, Baekhyun starts dragging Chanyeol forwards, towards the kitchen door exit. Jongdae thinks he sees Chanyeol brush a kiss into Baekhyun’s hair as they step out into the night with the smoke and desperation of the party, and Jongdae breathes out a bit of his soul. Fuck, why did his nerves have to kick in? He’s not drunk enough for this.

Two bottles, three, maybe a fourth slide down too easily, acquaintances recognising him and passing over their drinks to share as Jongdae wanders through the house for something fun to do, or maybe a place to crash since he told the duo that he wasn’t going back to his and Baekhyun’s shared dorm that night. Someone passes him a cigarette as he comes back down the stairs, finding too many drugs and couples in various states of undress for his liking. Jongdae takes a drag and blows it out, ignoring how the people around him cough. The earth is dying anyways. Just one cigarette tonight isn’t going to hurt his shriveled black lungs any more than they are already hurting, nor is the secondhand smoke going to kill someone that wasn’t already heading for death.

It’s when Jongdae finds himself curled up in the bathtub of the smaller bathroom adjacent to the kitchen does he admit that he has no clue why the fuck he’s here. Sure, he was worried about Baekhyun, but his project is due in two days and he has so many things to edit and look over and study, and just thinking about it makes him want to steal another cigarette. 

Smoke clouds up at the top of the room and Jongdae imagines how they would look if he was underwater, the red of the nightlight probably more intense and hazy, suffocating though drowning. 

God, maybe he just needs something happy in life. The past few weeks had been nothing but Baekhyun crying and a tide of work threatening to crash over onto him. That’s the reason he dug around in the back of the closet for those clothes that people said that he looked delicious in, and why he borrowed a few earrings so that these piercing holes don’t actually go to waste like how people predict. But the reason that he ended up here out of all places, hiding away from the people he used to love mingling with, in the tiniest bathroom that most people aren’t even sure exists? Jongdae doesn’t know that one yet.

Another two hours of his life flies through his lips as the door opens and the smoke escapes, leaving the room with a considerable better quality of air. The red light does no favours for Jongdae as the man entering shuts the door as soon as possible, but then he turns around and Jongdae sits up straight when his eyes finally connect the correct characters on the back of his jacket to a name. 

The cigarette is stubbed out on the draining cold of the bath, and Jongdae slides out with better grace than he thought would be allotted to him. He falls into Luhan’s arms and doesn’t even care about how much of a fool he must look, smoking in a bathtub while life is passing him by.

“Hey, didn’t we say for you to do something about your smoking problem?” Luhan’s voice is surprisingly cheery and steady, light and calm as it always is, and Jongdae pulls his head towards his own. Luhan tastes like whatever cheap beer was being served and coffee, dark and rich, probably because of Minseok. Minseok was a better kisser, a better fucker, but just not properly into Jongdae like that, leaving him with whatever sort of a weird boner he could possibly get from that relationship.

Whatever, it’s ultimately the best thing to do in the end anyways, and he can’t really care about Minseok when Luhan’s on his lips and moving under his hands, pulling him in closer by the cold running up his sides under the shirt they snuck into. 

“You taste like fucking smoke.” Luhan licks his lips when he draws back, looking as if his smile would grow as Jongdae’s frown does. His hands are on Jongdae’s shoulder blades, and Jongdae looks down to see his shirt almost entirely ridden up, clearly showing his stomach and band of the underwear that did not slip down with his pants. 

“And you taste like Americano, but you don’t see me complaining.” Jongdae snaps a little, feeling a bit unbalanced especially as Luhan smiles that little crook which only has the corners of his lips lifting but his eyes shining and it’s all directed at Jongdae. 

“You need to quit. I hate fucking being boxed in by smoke. It’s like you’re trying to kill me.” Luhan comments, and Jongdae thinks about the way the light curved around the clouds of smoke that had hung at the top of the room before Luhan released them. It’s just one cigarette for getting through the night. He wasn’t ever addicted in the first place anyways, tomorrow is back to good Jongdae, who does his work and eats healthy and doesn’t smoke.

“Then die.”

Luhan bites this time during the kiss, tugging at his lip and running his hand over Jongdae’s body so that he gasps in surprise. Playing dirty. Jongdae throws his head back and lets out a moan when Luhan moves his focus from Jongdae’s mouth to his neck, licking and tracing and kissing and biting in all the ways that mattered. 

“You’re so pretty,” Luhan whispers against his lips as he slides Jongdae’s one good looking shirt - it’s actually Baekhyun’s - up til it’s basically only covering Jongdae’s shoulders, and then over his head so it’s not covering any part of him. Jongdae bites down a groan when Luhan moves slightly back, running a look down his chest with a look in his face that’s savouring, sampling with his eyes. Then he leans in, and licks one strip over one of Jongdae’s nipples, slow so that the cold air hits before Luhan has even lifted his head up, and Jongdae is in trouble. His hands might still be interlocked behind Luhan’s neck, but they’re doing nothing as Luhan takes control, marking up Jongdae in the way that he knows will make Jongdae complain even though Jongdae loves it.

He takes a glance in the mirror while Luhan’s sucking a bruise onto his chest and feels himself come to full hardness just by the sight alone, marks up and down his neck as Luhan dedicates himself to Jongdae, eyes closed to enjoy nothing besides the sensation of Jongdae quivering beneath his hands.

Then he unzips Jongdae’s pants and Jongdae’s already gone even before Luhan’s fully touched him, the focus on his lips as rich and dark as the coffee filling his mouth, mixing with the alcohols in a flammable mixture. It takes a very small amount of strokes before Jongdae’s moaning Luhan’s name into his mouth, hands tightening perhaps a bit too much on the hair seized between his fingers and his hips hiccuping in how they’re thrusting upwards into the fist Luhan makes, an easier way of giving him the friction he needs.

Luhan bites the first hickey of the night fully into Jongdae’s neck just as he squeezes a little harder, and Jongdae comes with a gasp, spilling directly over Luhan’s fist, getting himself sticky as Luhan works him through it, not stopping in his motions until after Jongdae’s breathing properly again.

Luhan offers his hand to Jongdae, and Jongdae licks his own cum off Luhan’s sticky, sticky fingers. His dick doesn’t matter, they’re in a bathroom with soap and water and towels anyways. 

Luhan starts backing Jongdae up until his knees are up against the side of the tub, and he suddenly sits backwards onto it, sinking into the tub again ridiculously slow, Luhan following behind, leg in between his own.

“I could fuck you here.” Luhan toys with the words like he was toying with the thought, nice and slow and no hint of anything slightly darker than usual in his voice. Jongdae’s 100% sure that his voice is probably a bit raspy from the way he was moaning earlier, and hates that Luhan doesn’t sound anything besides slightly out of breath. He also hates the way Luhan’s leaned over him, pinning him against the porcelain, the way Luhan’s hair is still in place, the fact that he’s calm and composed and not listening to life throttling him slowly, and that he’s not kissing him right now. “I haven’t fucked you in a long time, have I? But there’s lube, and you’re here and I’m hard, and I could. I could take my nice sweet time spreading you open, watch how your beautiful lips moan as you take me so nicely like you always do, because you’re so gorgeous.”

A hand traces over Jongdae’s cheekbones, stroking his hair, the slope of his side, and finally gently cupping his ass. Luhan gives Jongdae an innocent smile as he presses his leg against his cock a bit more, and Jongdae breathes in deeply to softly release the gasp of air.

“Then why don’t you?” Jongdae’s voice is indeed raspy, and he hates the way Luhan smirks at it before offering him a kiss as if it was enough condolence.

“I need to actually leave early tonight. I need to fly back home in a few hours, and while you’re the sweetest, I can’t miss my flight or my parents will have my head.” 

Jongdae’s mouth goes dry. Forgetting timelines and deadlines are always a bitch. And it’s it how it always goes. You’re finally happy and then life ultimately drags you apart.

“When do you come back?” 

“Hmm?” Luhan doesn’t even look a little bit concerned about how Jongdae feels the world starting to squeeze too hard at his esophagus, or the way his spine is starting to register that it should not be in such a position. Instead, he stands back up, reaching a hand down to grab Jongdae and pull him up again, so that they’re both standing. “Oh, nearly a week. A cousin’s getting married and apparently I’m a big part of the wedding process.”

Oh. Jongdae can do a week. He can ask in a week. There’s more time. 

“Why? Were you wondering when we could do this again, so I could properly fuck you? Do you want my dick in you that badly?” Luhan says everything without a hint of a smirk, face completely straight as he asks, as if it was just a matter of pleasantries. “Well, if you really want it that badly, I could just take care of you tonight and buy a ticket back for tomorrow.” 

Luhan dangles the treat so eagerly over Jongdae’s head when he knows it’s just an offer to be denied. Jongdae shakes his head in refusal. Plane tickets cost a lot, and Luhan’s probably only offering because he doesn’t want to fly. 

“No. Just fly home.” 

“Well, I’m not leaving right now. I’m going to leave in a little bit, when you can hear Minseok shouting at the other side of the door trying to rip my throat out for not moving.” Luhan smiles, tucking his hands back into his pockets, all innocent-like as he steps away from Jongdae, coy as if he actually intends to leave. Jongdae grabs ahold of Luhan’s stupid letterman and pulls him back, smoke and desperation and hurt steeping in with the abscence of that warmth in his arms, and Luhan meets his lips again, but not desperate, never desperate. Luhan knows where he’s going in life and what he’s doing and how to play Jongdae along like he thinks Jongdae is actually a good person, but Jongdae… Jongdae’s such a fucking mess, and he gasps for air, hands still clutching at the edges of that letterman.

Luhan slowly removes his hands from where they were cupping Jongdae’s face, gently removing Jongdae’s hands from his jacket, and then slides out of the article of clothing, revealing a Manchester United t-shirt that Jongdae knows for a fact that he usually sleeps in. 

“Here. You look like you’re cold.” Jongdae didn’t know his hands were shaking until he had to slide his arms into the jacket that Luhan helps him into, Lu 77 embolden on his back. Luhan then buttons the jacket for him, going from top to bottom until he’s kneeling, right in front of Jongdae’s still present dick. It’s so much warmer, but Jongdae thinks he’s still shaking slightly while Luhan, with kitten licks but without the sandpaper tongue, slowly cleans the cum off of Jongdae for him. He doesn’t have the chance to get hard again before Luhan’s neatly tucking him in again, zipping up Jongdae’s ripped jeans as he stands up. When Jongdae kisses him this time, he can taste himself on Luhan, and thinks that the way Luhan hangs slightly onto his own jacket is the hottest thing he’s done so far.

Without the blockage of the jacket, it’s a lot more apparent that Luhan is still hard, straining against the boundary of his skinny jeans. Jongdae kneels down, feeling the solid tiles against the rips in his knees, and wonders if he looks a little like he’s praying. Luhan’s surprised, for some apparent reason, but he doesn’t protest as Jongdae frees his dick and gives it a few test strokes. 

Luhan’s not the biggest guy in the world. From that one time he accidentally walked in on Baekhyun and Chanyeol, Jongdae can attest that Luhan’s certainly not bigger than Chanyeol. Minseok’s cock is a little smaller than Chanyeol, but Jongdae felt like he was being split open as he suffered through the hardest orgasm anyone had ever pulled out of him.

But Jongdae thinks he likes Luhan better, Luhan who draws him through gently and leaves Jongdae wanting nothing but more, all the time, even when Luhan’s literally in his arms, ready to give himself up to Jongdae unquestionably. Besides, Jongdae’s not the one with the pain kink in his friend group. That’s Baekhyun’s role, and one that Jongdae would fully support if only he saw Baekhyun’s ass dripping cum a little less.

Jongdae gently fits Luhan into his mouth, taking a second to familiarise himself again, after not having seen Luhan for so long. Then he sucks in air through his nose and listens to Chanyeol’s voice in his head talking about relaxing and the thought that at some point you’re just giving yourself up to be nothing but a passageway, for a different substance to take charge and go down. Course, he’s talking about how he’s the chugging champion for the 61st consecutive week in a row, but it works surprisingly well for deepthroating. And Jongdae had hoped that he could learn less about his best friend’s bedroom activities after the duo started dating. 

He takes one slow, nicely continuing moment as he slides his mouth down Luhan’s length, remembering the taste of Luhan’s skin that always seemed strangely sweet. When his nose is touching the skin of Luhan’s groin, smooth and clean due to his dislike of pubic hair, even if he couldn’t actually grow much anyways, Jongdae takes in another deep breath through his nose, a smell traveling through that is entirely Luhan, and nothing but. Luhan lets out a shaky breath in time with Jongdae, and threads his fingers gently through Jongdae’s hair, not to pull or take control, only to hold and feel Jongdae still here, still doing it all for Luhan.

Jongdae pops his mouth off of Luhan to get some proper air as he strokes him slowly. They might not have all the time in the world, but Jongdae is determined to do this, and make Luhan feel right.

“I forgot how good you were with your mouth.” Luhan smiles, a bit too cheery and steady for someone about to undergo a mind-blowing blowjob. Jongdae resents that.

“Rude.” Jongdae mutters, finding the appeal of just slowly rubbing Luhan off growing more by the second.

“Sorry. I’ll make it up to you when I get back.” Luhan promises, and though Jongdae has nothing to base these actually quite meaningless words on, he shouldn’t be rude and not finish what he started. Jongdae puts his mouth back on Luhan’s dick and starts to suck, hollowing his cheeks and pulling out every trick in the book.

If nothing else, there’s not much else you think about besides dick when you’re sucking some. There are no worries in the world, not even the fact that the door isn’t locked and there’s one of the biggest house parties of the month right outside. There’s only Luhan’s words, pouring slow and comfortably, a language Jongdae barely understands but he figures he’ll learn soon enough if he keeps this up, and the presence of Luhan, cutting into Jongdae a bit too much. He doesn’t need light to see what Luhan tells him anyways, especially with the barely visible red of the night-light, and he doesn’t need air when he can live on half-breaths like this. Half the air in this damn room is smoke and unspoken promises anyways.

Soon even Luhan’s infallible voice is no longer steady, losing tempo and gaining it all at once, and Jongdae speeds up, determined to bring Luhan to an end. It’s the harder tug as Luhan squeezes his hair more, and the way Jongdae knows that it’s him breaking Luhan down, even if he breathes like a swimmer and gives up more control of himself the more he goes. Maybe he does have a bit of a pain kink too. But just for Luhan.

Luhan takes one final, shaky breath as he stumbles through a final word of praise, something that he had actually spent quite a long time making sure Jongdae understood. Jongdae finishes swallowing, once, twice, trice, and lets go of Luhan, feeling everything rush back at once as soon as he lets go. 

His hands are still trembling as he tucks himself away, and Jongdae finds a bit too much delight as he stands and hears the way Luhan’s breathing stutters, curling into him the way he shouldn’t be allowed to. Luhan kisses him once, briefly. Twice, briefly again for another taste. And then he takes Jongdae’s breath away, extracting promises that shouldn’t be forced to be kept.

“I-I think I hear Minseok.” Luhan’s voice is hoarse too, Jongdae notes. 

“Yeah.” Jongdae hears the familiar tone too, but he loathes to give up the hands on his back holding him steady and the bit of humanity that still gives him faith and hope. 

“I need to go.” Yet Luhan does not try to leave. 

“Go.” Jongdae takes Luhan’s hands off him first, giving him a little push to ensure he continues moving away from Jongdae and to the better life he definitely has.

“I’ll see you when I get back then.” There’s but a footstep’s space in between them, but Luhan’s already too far to be reachable.

“I’m holding you to that promise.” And Luhan’s lips split into a truly happy grin again, pulling Jongdae into a quick hug before walking away, turning around to wave as he steps through the door frame, going towards the much warmer party. 

Jongdae barely lifts his hands up to respond with a motion of his own, but Luhan deems it sufficient and gives him one last bit of sunshine before closing the door on Jongdae again, trapping him in. The fresh air brings disappointment and new expectations, letting out some more of the smoke, but also something cool, dropping the temperature. Now that he’s had a chance to compare, Jongdae realizes that their bathroom stinks of sex. But he doesn’t want to leave, with the privacy it offers. 

Everything’s colder without Luhan. God, maybe Jongdae needs another cigarette to get through and he was just lying earlier. 

Instead of doing anything about it, he climbs back into the bathtub, the crushed cigarette from earlier resting underneath his spine as he rests his head above the drain. Won’t be the first time he’s passed out in a bathtub. Besides, there’s probably not enough beds for him to steal one anyways. 

His shirt is gone with Luhan, but he has Luhan’s stolen jacket, a promise to return apparent in its presence. The cigarette is gone, but so is Jongdae’s desire to do anything besides sleep til a better time, arriving in a week. 

Sometimes, the things you chip yourself down with are the gifts that others have given. Jongdae closes his eyes, wondering if someone would turn on the water for him.

There’s always something missing, 

**Author's Note:**

> (psst hey i love reading and responding to comments so like even if you want to just hiss demonically at me in a language that my computers can't process, please do so in the comments)


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